The Little Aviatrix
by NancyMay
Summary: A sequel to Maybe, Maybe Not, an Alice and Matthew story set 18 months after they marry and adopt her niece, Molly. Picture prompt from yr 6 writing task the picture was one of a little girl and a dog in flying goggles and helmets in an old aeroplane, possibly from a fairground ride. Reviews and comments welcome as always.


Molly opened her eyes to the early morning sun sneaking between the curtains like a thief, stealing the dark away. She threw back the bed covers and went to fling them open to check the weather. Yay! A bright sunny morning; Mummy and Pa had said that if the weather was good enough they could go to the fair as her birthday treat. They'd passed it on the way home from school while it was being set up and she couldn't wait, there was just the perfect ride for her, aeroplanes!

"Mummy! Pa!" she ran down to her parents' bedroom, arms wide, a whirlwind.

"Vroom!" she burst into their room and leapt onto Matthew, "Pa! wake up!" she turned and shook Alice's shoulder, "Mummy! Rise and shine!"

"Molly," Matthew groaned, "urgh! What time is it?"

"Getting up time!"

Alice picked up her watch, "Molly, it's half past six," and flopped back down onto the pillow, "and it's Saturday."

"Come on," she pulled at Matthew's pyjama top, "we're going to the fair, you said so."

"And we will, Molly," he sat up, "we're not meeting Aunty Jean and Uncle Lucien until ten, we've plenty of time." He grinned, her excitement was infectious, "breakfast first."

"Okay," she wriggled under the covers between them, "we are taking Biscuit, aren't we? You said we could."

Molly and Biscuit went everywhere together; it was hard to think she had been so very cautious when she first met him eighteen months ago, but now they were practically inseparable; Alice joked she would take him to school if she could find a way. Biscuit was one of the best ideas Rose; Matthew's niece; had ever had. From getting Matthew back on his feet after his accident to giving Molly something to focus on and tell her secrets to, after losing her father. She could do anything with the little dog and he never nipped or barked or growled.

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Molly wiped the last of her egg off the plate with her toast then took it to the sink. She stood on a chair to reach each plate as her Pa washed it and stacked it on the drainer. Molly dried each item carefully and put it on the work surface. In spite of her excitement for the day to begin she had her chores to do, which she did willingly, always wanting to help Mummy and Pa, because they did so much for her.

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Unlike most little girls, Molly was not in the slightest bit interested in dolls or pretty dresses, she was obsessed with flight, declaring, after a history lesson in school about the Wright Brothers, that she was going to fly aeroplanes when she grew up. When the boys had told her that she couldn't because she was a girl she had stamped her little foot and said she didn't care.

"I will fly aeroplanes!" she stuck her tongue out and blew raspberries at them, which earned her a reprimand from her teacher, for unladylike behaviour.

When she had told her parents that evening, that everybody had laughed at her, they had comforted her.

"Sweetheart, if you want to fly aeroplanes then you shall," Mummy had hugged her, "after all, they said I couldn't be a doctor because I'm a woman..."

"...you showed 'em," Pa snuck up behind them, "didn't you, love?"

"Exactly," she smiled, "don't let anybody tell you that you can't do something, just because you're a girl."

"Anyway," Matthew sat beside his daughter on the couch, "it didn't stop Amelia Earhart or Amy Johnson."

"Who're they, Pa?"

They spent the next hour or so, before Molly went to bed, telling her about the two female pilots and their adventures.

She was in heaven when she opened her birthday present from Aunty Jean and Uncle Lucien; her own flying helmet and goggles, made by Aunty Jean out of an old woollen blanket, and a pair of goggles similarly fashioned for Biscuit, though Jean wasn't sure even Molly could get the dog to wear them.

"Is there nothing Jean Blake can't make?" Alice whispered in her husband's ear as they watched the child vroom round the house and garden with her arms out like wings, followed by her faithful companion obediently wearing his goggles.

"Unlikely," he grinned.

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The fair was very busy, full of excited children asking to go on rides, or to eat candy floss and toffee apples, pulling their parents this way and that, laughing, shrieking with joy. Matthew spotted Lucien by the carousel trying to persuade his wife to take a turn with him.

"Don't be silly, Lucien" she laughed, "it's for children."

"Release the inner child, my dear Jean," and he dragged her to buy tickets before lifting her effortlessly onto a brightly painted steed, in white and gold.

"Go on, Molly," Matthew held out his hand for Biscuit's lead, "why don't you and Mummy have a go, then the aeroplane ride."

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Much as she had enjoyed her ride on the carousel Molly was bursting with excitement as they stood in the queue for the aeroplanes. Alice settled her in, and put the flying helmet and goggles on her, then lifted Biscuit in, not sure whether it was a good idea or not, and let Molly twist round to put his goggles on. She shook her head and smiled, such an imaginative child, goodness knew where she got it from.

Slowly the ride started, gently turning at first then gradually building up speed, and as the speed increased the little planes lifted then dipped, then lifted again, each time higher than the last, until Molly was looking down on the heads of her family and the good folk of the town.

"Look, Biscuit!" she pointed, "there's Pa! and Mummy!"

She could see so much, the Club, the Town Hall, and everything seemed so small, like toys with ants scurrying along grey ribbon streets. A kaleidoscope of colours and shapes streaked past her eyes and she squealed her delight, flinging her head back and her arms wide, the wind blowing her curls back from under her helmet.

"YAY!" she yelled, so loud they could hear her on the ground. Alice didn't dare look, hiding her face in Matthew's solid chest, praying to a deity she didn't believe in; she was a scientist after all; that Molly would appear in front of her, unharmed, Biscuit at her side, with an ice cream or some such innocuous treat.

Matthew smirked over her head, fully confident the child would be quite safe. She had been so thrilled to find the ride, they could not have denied her the experience.

The ride came to a gentle halt and Matthew went to lift Molly out. Biscuit leapt out and promptly wobbled, then fell down, a hairy cushion at his feet.

"Oh dear, Molly" he laughed, "I don't think Biscuit has the use of his legs. He must be very dizzy." He bent down and lifted the animal, "come on, you daft mutt, let's find you some water."

"Is he alright, Pa?" she reached up to stroke the dog, "perhaps he shouldn't have come with me."

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Matthew smiled down at her concerned face, "come on, Mummy's in need of an ice cream, I think. Hold onto my stick so you don't get lost."

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They found a quiet table outside a cafe and, together with Jean and Lucien, sat and had tea and ice cream.

"Was that fun?" Lucien asked.

"Oh Uncle Lucien," she declared, "it was wonderful! I could see right over the town, you all looked like ants," she giggled, "the cars looked like toys."

"Thank goodness it's only once a year," breathed Alice, fervently wishing it was something stronger than tea in her cup. "I don't think I could take seeing you up there too often, sweetheart."

Molly giggled, "Oh Mummy," she went over and wriggled onto her knee, "you said it didn't matter that I am a girl, I can do anything I want."

"I did, didn't I, if you put your mind to it," she wrapped her arms round the child, "don't know what I was thinking."

In spite of her mother's reservations, Molly was allowed another go on the aeroplanes, without Biscuit. She enjoyed it just as much, if not more and squealed her joy as the world whizzed by, flashes of the blue of the sky and the white fluff of the clouds, the reds and creams of the buildings, so familiar from the ground, solid and safe. From the air; magical, unreal, insubstantial pieces floating past her eyes. Alice still couldn't look.

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Alice tucked her exhausted daughter into bed, gently removing the helmet from her unruly curls and kissing her forehead.

"Sweet dreams," she whispered, "my little aviatrix."


End file.
